


Choices

by QueerCannibal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Implied Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self Loathing, possibly implied Dumbledore/Severus?, seeming universal truths, thoughts of worthlessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCannibal/pseuds/QueerCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape only ever made six choice in his life; the sixth would be his last, and at age twenty-one, he knew it.<br/>Everyone makes choices, some good, some bad, some yet to be made; but something inside Severus is missing, that piece that human beings have that enable them to make good choices, and he wonders if perhaps the universe left it out. That would certainly explain why he was nothing more then a mistake.<br/>----<br/>Severus thinks darkly upon his choices in Dumbledore's office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

At just twenty-one-years-old, Severus Snape’s life was over; simple as that. He was told that it was a time for a new beginning, and second chances; but at just twenty-one, he knew that those things didn’t exist, not for him.

Ones life is made up of choices, good, bad, and choices yet to be made. Severus had made only six important choices in his life; and only three of them had been decent. Now, at age twenty-one, his sixth choice would be his final choice; he wouldn’t get more choices, and it burned him inside. 

How had things gone so wrong? He would sometimes find himself wondering, only to sneer at his own musing. Things had been wrong from the moment of his conception; he was never meant to be born. Isn’t that the universal truth? That Severus Snape was unwanted, unloved, and unworthy of the existence mistakenly granted him? Everyone had said so. 

***

His father had often told him of his worthless existence while he yelled at him for something he couldn’t remember doing; sometimes he’d wonder what he’d done to make his father hurt him, but now, at age twenty-one he knew the answer; he’d drawn breath. 

His mother had never said it aloud, or to his face, but he’d picked up on it early on; she was just as upset with his existence as his father, and it had always hurt more coming from her than from him. His father would yell, shout, scream, and hurt. His mother barely said anything, and when she did, it was always in the quietest and most dismissal of tones. 

His parent’s showed him early on that he was an unfortunate accident, not worth tending to. He’d hoped to change their minds, to prove that he wasn’t an accident. He did well in school, his report card always a glowing testimony to how well he’d done, but his parents never noticed. They would grow angry whenever the school nurse would send home a letter saying that he was to thin, or that he was to dirty. He stopped taking home report cards and nurse notes.

He had hoped that when he showed signs of magical potential that his mother at the least would have come around, would have been excited, or proud; but she wasn’t. She seemed to become colder still towards him, no doubt blaming him for bringing more magic into their home; it was no secret that his father hated magic. 

When he was only seven-years-old, Severus Snape accepted that nothing he did would ever impress his parents; he would remain just as unwanted no matter what he did. He tried to accept it with disinterest, but he couldn’t help but cry under his covers in the dead of night. Why wasn’t he good enough?

Severus never tried to appease the people he met outside of his house. They looked at him and saw exactly what he was; a poor boy, who shouldn’t have been born. He ignored their muttered words, their burning eyes, but it still hurt. It wasn’t his fault that his family was poor. It wasn’t his fault that he was so thin; his father never bought enough food, wasting what little money they had on vodka. It wasn’t his fault that his skin was grimy and his hair greasy, or so long that it fell into his face; they rarely had water (due to the money problem), and even when he had taken a pair of scissors to his hair he’d woken to find it all grown back the next morning. 

Severus had accepted that no one in his hometown would accept him, resigned himself to loneliness, abuse, and hunger; determined never to complain. But then he found hope, the smallest glimmer of hope, as bright as the sun when he met her, Lily. She was like him, in only one way, in the only way that counted; she could do magic too. Severus had longed for his departure to Hogwarts in silence, trying not to be too hopeful, but still dreaming, wishing that it would bring him new opportunities. Now, he had hope, with Lily as his friend. 

He told her about Hogwarts, and what he knew about the houses (which wasn’t all that much, only that his mother had been in Slytherin, and that she had loved it), and that they weren’t alone in their strange gifts; because that was what they were, gifts, and now Severus was certain. 

Lily had never told him that he was worthless, or unwanted, to the contrary; she thought he was amazing. She saw past his grimy skin, greasy hair, and baggy mismatched clothes. She saw something that he’d never seen, worth. He did his best to prove her correct, thought often missing the mark. They never argued in those early years before Hogwarts, but sometimes she’d get gently cross, he was never exactly sure why; perhaps it was something he’d said? What had he said that would make her frown like that? He never could remember, she’d move on and let it go before he could recall it to his memory. 

For two glorious years, Severus was able to tolerate his mistreatment at home, at school, in town; it didn’t matter what anyone thought of him or said behind his back just loud enough for him to hear, because Lily thought he was amazing, and talented, and intelligent; she thought that he was worth something. Severus had begun to believe her too; his confidence in himself beginning to blossom, perhaps very late and out of season, but it was there nonetheless. He should have known better than to lie to himself.

Hogwarts proved to be just another place where he was reminded that he didn’t deserve to exist, that his being alive was just an accident. Perhaps he could have coped better if Lily hadn’t been separated from him; sure they spoke, and shared classes, and remained friends, but the nights when they were separated, Severus couldn’t ignore how far the Slytherin common room was from her Gryffindor dormitory. He tried to remember her words, but more often than not they were drowned out by other words, and other voices. 

Severus made one of his first ill chosen choices at eleven-years-old, though at the time there was no way for him to know that; he often sneered and scoffed at himself when he thought back upon it, hindsight was nobodies friend. 

Separated from the one person in the world who had ever seen anything worthwhile in him, Severus sought out another, a closer defender, someone who could remind him, someone who wouldn’t let him sink back into his old habits; he’d chosen his defender poorly. 

Lucius Malfoy, six years his senior, was an authority who held a considerable amount of sway within the Slytherin common room and dormitories. He’d gladly befriended the young Severus, with cool words, and an eloquence that Severus had never known in his young life. Lucius praised Severus for his magic abilities, and assured him that Slytherin was indeed where he belonged and that he would find those who shared in his gifts and talents; kind and empty flattery, which a lonely and unsure boy was willing to accept.  
And even once Lucius was gone, there were others, who reminded Severus that he was not unworthy, unwanted, ordinary, but extraordinary. This helped the bloom of confidence inside him grow, though it was not with water that that small bud was being watered, but poison; he often had to remind himself that hindsight was no one’s friend.

Severus had never thought he would meet anyone who claimed that his existence was a totally abortion of the natural order more than his own parents, but with the freedom of Hogwarts came new tormentors to remind him; James Potter, and Sirius Black. They were, perhaps, more vicious than anyone Severus had ever met, and he found it impossible to simply ignore them, to let their comments and cruel words slide off his back as he had always done before; they wouldn’t let him, as though insulted at his lack of reaction. He sometimes wondered if the two boys thought it their duty to the universe to humble him, to remind him of where he belonged. 

It was so unfair! Why did they have to drag every single one of his insecurities over the coals? What had he ever done to them? Oh, of course, he was born. He never could fathom how his birth could have possibly affected them so, his parents sure, he could understand it, the strangers on the streets, maybe, but these two boys? These two rich, pampered, well to do boys who needn’t even had looked his way. 

He could no longer remain silent, and he found himself responding with perhaps more vicious indignation and rage to their bullying than he ever imagined himself capable of. But this only fueled the fire. They would break him down, and instead of simply moving on, he would attack, even though he knew it would solve nothing; he couldn’t help himself. He was so SICK of being treated like trash! Tired of being hurt! He was DONE! And so, he fought back. 

This landed him in detention more than once, but he wasn’t the only one who got into trouble; his abusers as well ended up in detention more than once. But even so, it never seemed to matter. Sure they would be given detention, but nothing changed. It would all just start over the next day, a vicious cycle. How was he ever supposed to survive seven years of this abuse? How could he ever hope to overcome the never ending assurance than he was worth nothing when he was given to reprieve?  
Well he still had Lily. She was never quiet about defending him, and there was a viciousness behind her eyes and words that would more often than not steal his breath away. How was she so self assured in her assessment of him? To come so quickly to his defense? 

She wasn’t the only one though; and her method was perhaps, not the most affective. Severus had more than one defender in Slytherin, and these defenders, these friends, were brutal in their defense. He would thrill at knowing that he could call upon them should he need them, but their brutality didn’t take his breath away, though he didn’t know why. Perhaps they were lacking something?

 

As Severus grew, he was recognized for his talents, by teachers, and by fellows in his own house. It wasn’t much, and the bullying certainly hadn’t been stopped, but it was enough that now he never doubted his own self worth. He knew that he was worth something, and that the universe hadn’t made a mistake, and if it had, well then he would prove that it’s mistake was doubting him. 

But as his self assurance grew, something in Lily changed. He could never really put his finger on it, but she always seemed somewhat short whenever they were together. He tried to ask, in the only way he knew how, but she would always simply say, “if it isn’t obvious,”. It wasn’t obvious. He couldn’t see why she was so unhappy; she should be happy! He was finally starting to feel like a human being with a purpose instead of a walking mistake. 

Her shortness would anger him, but he always did his best to restrain it. He couldn’t be angry with Lily, not Lily. Whenever they’d argue, and she’d manage to hit a nerve, it took all of his self control not to yell back at her, not to shout at the top of his voice to try and get his point across. He restrained himself to quiet, haughty arguing; but she never seemed to get his point. 

 

Things changed drastically when he’d failed to school himself, failed to restrain his anger, and in a moment, he’d lost the only really good thing in his life; Lily. He couldn’t believe it, even the torment, jeers, and sexual harassment assaulted upon him by James seemed like a blur. He couldn’t believe what he’d said, he hadn’t even thought, it had slipped out…. He had to apologize, he had to try and express how truly sorry he was, and how horrified he was at what he’d said, but he didn’t get the chance. He had seen Lily’s rage and anger, the viciousness that stole his breath away on many occasions, but he’d never seen it turned on him. It did much more than steal his breath; he froze him down to his core. He could barely articulate what he was trying to say, his brain having decided to lag slowly. 

When she was finished, and he’d failed to properly say everything he had wanted to, she turned away. They’d had arguments before, and even fights, one of them always storming off, but this… this was finale. 

He wanted desperately to grab her to try and make her understand, to plead for her to listen, to give him a chance to make it up to her, but he didn’t. He didn’t even move, didn’t speak, just watched her walk away and disappear down the Gryffindor hallway. 

He was never exactly certain how he’d made his way back down to the Slytherin common room, but he had. He didn’t talk to anyone, all who approached him quickly getting the hint and leaving him quite alone; they probably thought he was to upset about the show that James had put on display for all to watch, but they were wrong; he was thinking about Lily. He’d always tried so hard to keep his crueler thoughts, his wicked inclinations from her, but now he realized he’d just been fooling himself; she’d known, she’d always known. Some of their arguments made more sense now, but he couldn’t bring himself to analyze them; what did it matter now? Lily no longer wanted to be his friend, no longer wanted to have anything to do with him… fine. If that’s what she wanted… then he wouldn’t bother her. He would slip silently away, and let her continue on with her life, touching and enlightening everyone she met. 

 

Severus knew that he had many flaws, but perhaps the one that he was most keenly aware of, was his thirst for power. It wasn’t even so much that he desired to rule over anyone per say, he just craved it, power in any form. It was a flaw, he knew it was, but everyone around him told him that it was a quality of his to be admired. It was strange really, all of these people continuing to praise him for his abilities, and gifts, which had once been so reassuring, a comfort, but now Severus found it all rather shallow. They were all rather shallow. 

He knew, deep down, there would be no power for him, not with the Dark Lord, who’d convinced so many that they would share in his glory once he had gained control of the Wizarding World. Severus knew better. The Dark Lord would not share power, he would rule, and they would serve. He was a glorified slave, and he knew it, but he didn’t see any way out. He’d realized the error of his thinking far too late. 

Even knowing that in the end there would be nothing for him, Severus couldn’t bring himself to rebel, to give the Dark Lord or his lackeys a reason to kill him, because merely being in the presents of such power was intoxicating, and Severus was unfortunately easily intoxicated.

 

His awakening, his sobering up came with alarm when he was bodily removed from The Hog’s Head tavern by the bar man, who was quite taller than Severus and at least twice as thick; not a hard feat, as Severus had never really outgrown his gangly build. 

His awakening came in a flood of brilliantly lit realization and fear; Lily was in danger. He had no choice but to report what he’d heard in the bar to the Dark Lord, and did so with calm unfeeling ease, even though inside he was screaming. 

It wasn’t until the Dark Lord had begun talk of possible plans that he voiced his request; would the Dark Lord spare Lily? The Dark Lord had seemed amused at the request, but said he would give Severus’s request a try; this was no comfort, and he knew, he knew what had to be done. A choice had to be made. The Dark Lord had made an enemy of him, and had ceased to be his master the moment he threatened Lily, the only good thing that had ever happened to Severus Snape. 

 

It wasn’t loathing or selfishness at first that had Severus ignore Lily’s family upon his plea for Dumbledore’s aid, but fear; Dumbledore frightened him, and Severus found once again, he was having trouble articulating what he wished to say. It was unnerving to kneel helpless and pleading at the old and powerful wizard’s feet, but he had to convince the older man to take action. He had to! Her life depended upon it. And so he made a choice, a second deal that would for the time being, tie him to yet another powerful wizard. 

 

When Lily died, the light in Severus’ world went out and he was completely and utterly wrapped in darkness. He wanted to die; there was no point in living! He hadn’t even been able to protect the one good person in his life, the one person who had seen beyond his physical appearance, the one person who had cared for him, and called him friend, the one person he’d failed; now twice. 

He longed for death, he wanted to give in, to finally throw in the towel and admit, that yes! The universe had made a mistake, and that he should never have been born. His mistakes, his poor choices had lead to nothing but misery, for himself, and for nameless others. Was he simply incapable of making good choices? Was that his curse? Was that why he had been told over and over that he was a mistake, that he was worthless? Was it because when he was born, the universe had forgotten to give him something? Something required to be worthwhile? 

 

Severus knew that he had many flaws, and a thirst for power had been his worst; but now something else had taken its place, something small, and strange, and heavy settling somewhere inside him demanding to be acknowledged. 

Sitting, weary, and broken across from Dumbledore, he voiced that he wanted to die, but Dumbledore was clever; he said just the right words, turned just the right phrases to get the attention of that new something residing somewhere deep in Severus; and it rose eagerly, blossoming almost painfully into something he wished that he could smash down, strangle, he was certain it was a weed that had so viciously blossomed inside of him; hope. 

Dumbledore was offering him something that he hadn’t even known that he wanted, no, needed. Dumbledore was offering him a second chance, forgiveness, and Severus couldn’t help but hope that he could achieve it. 

He made a choice. 

***

Rain was lashing at the windows, so hard that he could no longer see out of them; he didn’t care, he’d been looking out the window unseeing for awhile now, dark eyes focused on a far away thought. 

The smell of lemon drew him from his thoughts, and alerted him to the man’s presence behind him; he hadn’t even heard him move from behind his desk. He forced himself to remain where he was, gazing unseeing out of the window; he wouldn’t give the man the pleasure of seeing him squirm. 

“You’ve been quiet for awhile now,” The calm pleasant voice spoke behind him, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; the man was closer than he’d realized; damn, he hadn’t even heard him move! “I thought you would have had at least something to say about the news.” 

“What’s the point in complaining?” He inquired, his voice coming out a little sharper then he’d intended, but he didn’t feel like apologizing for it. He was pissed, and he wanted the older man to know it, even if he couldn’t outwardly do anything about it. He still wasn’t sure how far he could push Dumbledore, and he honestly didn’t like the thought of being on the receiving end of any of the man’s jinxes. 

“Severus, you understand why I can’t give you—“

“Yes, yes,” he spat, spinning on his heal, coming almost face to face with the older man; Dumbledore was remarkably tall, even more alarmingly so when up close. Severus resisted the urge to press himself against the window; he would not shrink down in fear with this man. He refused! “I know exactly why.” He seethed, inching around the older man and crossing the room, putting some distance between them. 

“Severus,”

“Don’t bother,” He spat over his shoulder, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “I know why you didn’t give me the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.” He could feel the older man’s intense gaze upon his back, and his arms tightened across his chest ever so slightly. “Think it will tempt me, back into my old ways.” He sneered, his mood particularly nasty; it was ridiculous, he wanted to scream and shout at the older man, yell about the injustice of EVERYTHING, but he didn’t—couldn’t. His voice grew quieter. “You don’t trust me.” He couldn’t quite believe the hurt that managed to escape as those words slipped out, hated himself for sounding so weak. 

“Severus, I do trust you.” Dumbledore said firmly, once again standing right behind him. Severus tried to ignore him, but he couldn’t help but hear every word the older man spoke. “This is for your own good,” he tried to assure. “it will take time for others to trust you as I do, and for me to simply assign you the Defense Against the Dark Arts post would make them question us both.” 

Severus turned on the spot, looking slightly up at the older man. He ran his tongue over his teeth, causing his lips to stick out slightly as he frowned hard at the other man; he so desperately wanted to believe the man’s words, but he didn’t. He knew the truth. It wasn’t about what other people would think, it was about what Dumbledore thinks of him. 

Severus had only asked for the job because he knew that it was jinxed, knew that if he took up the post, he’d be gone within a year. He wanted to leave, to disappear, to vanish, but he knew that would never happen, not while Dumbledore was there to watch his every move, and not while Harry Potter was alive; which is exactly what Severus was to ensure, that Harry Potter were to stay alive. He wasn’t entirely sure he bought Dumbledore’s belief that the Dark Lord would return, but he’d made a choice; a choice that would chain him to a new Master, Dumbledore. 

He didn’t mind all that much, not really; he both loathed and loved Dumbledore. It was all very complicated, and convoluted, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he even wanted anymore. He wanted to get away, and yet, he also wanted to stay. 

Dumbledore could offer him something that the Dark Lord never could; where the Dark Lord could supposedly offer him power, Dumbledore could offer him forgiveness, something he desperately wanted. 

And so, with the hope, and the promise that he could be forgiven, that things could be made right, Severus would remain at Hogwarts, teach whatever subject Dumbledore wanted him to, and try his best to be worthy of Dumbledore’s forgiveness. 

Part of him knew it was a lie, a false hope, the universe was not so kind, but even so he would continue to do whatever Dumbledore required of him, chasing that dangled carrot until the end, even if it killed him.


End file.
